


Conviction

by JaybieJarrett



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, Gen, Implied Character Death, Mental Breakdown, Mental Institutions, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaybieJarrett/pseuds/JaybieJarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Stryke's nightmarish older brother returns, and with him come long repressed memories of family's murder. His brothers botched attempt to silence him results in Tim being shipped off to an institution under a doctor with questionable intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It's the same creepy scene I always used to relive in my dreams. I'm four years old and in my parents' bed, sick with the chicken pox or the flu. I wake up to what seems like a scuffle downstairs, probably my half sibling Dex stirring up some kind of trouble. He's got a temper and my grandparents always warned Mom against letting him stay in the house, especially after he threw a tape player out the [window](http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2930530/1/Conviction).

But the yelling stops very suddenly. "Must be Aki" I think. Dex's older brother Akira seems to be the only one he listens to. Akira was good at getting his way and you'd have to be crazy to make him mad. He babysat for us younger kids and we had all suffered his displeasure at some point or another. I'll admit I was a bit more scared of misbehaving with Aki than with Mommy or Daddy sometimes. I yawned and eventually got up-ignoring my aches and pains-to find someone. As I pass by my twin brother's room, I notice that he's not there.

"Gil?" I call. " _Gil!_ "

Maybe he's downstairs. I go on down the stairs as I hear the door to the garage swinging and go to see if Daddy's home yet. I run over to the garage and poke outside the door. No car. What I do find makes my blood run cold. Blood drops. Just outside the window I see Dex running off, panicked and soaked to the bone. "Dex!" He doesn't answer. Doesn't even look back. I wonder what he did this time. As I [continue](http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2930530/1/Conviction) on my way toward the kitchen I see more blood drops leading to the kitchen. I remembered that Gil was gone and panic starts to set in. What if Dex hurt him? Does Mommy know? I break into a run following the blood drops.

"Mommy is Gil alr-"whatever I was about to say dies in my throat when I see the scene in front of me. My mother and Skye lying on the floor…unmoving and surrounded by pools of red. I go over to them and try to wake them up. It's sort of like that scene in the Lion King. Except worse. (I could never watch that movie after I turned five). I almost feel tears sting my eyes and drip off my face as I continue to try and they still don't wake up. I don't even hear the footsteps behind me.

"Your brother made a real mess this time" Something is pressed up against my neck. "Shame I won't be able to clean up after him."

 


	2. In Which "Aki" Returns

The murder at our house was front page news and on TV for the longest time. We spent a lot of time at the police station. They never found Gil either but it's assumed that Dex hid his body. Dad had been out getting some groceries or something Dex Toyaka was arrested for murder only miles away from his home with his shoes covered in blood. It was also big news because Dex and Akira's mother was apparently a brilliant psychiatrist or something. Akira was the star witness.

He got on the stand and talked about how he had been trying to watch out for his brother for years, how Dex suffered from a bunch of anger problems and was in general a very troubled kid. He had a lot of resentment towards Dad and living with him full time was 'stressful'. Akira said, showing the most emotion that I had ever seen him show, that he wished he could have stopped Dex and had no idea what set him off. I don't remember much of the case but from what I was told they tried to get me to testify but I broke down. It didn't matter anyway. On July 14, 2000, Dexter A. Toyaka was pronounced insane and sent to spend the rest of his life in an institution.

But I remember none of this. What I do remember is that I was terrified of Akira and he was often breathing down my neck. People said that I was afraid of him because of the family resemblance to Dex. I had a major emotional breakdown in the second grade and stubbornly refused to leave my class desk until my Dad came home from work. Dad found a psychologist for me and Akira left for college.

Something about Akira leaving made me start to recover more. After I went to the psychologist for about two years undergoing PTSD treatment and we moved across the state, I eventually found that I couldn't recall anything past the age of six. I just remembered that my family was attacked and killed and I freaked out over it. When I started at my new town, people seemed to be careful around me as if I would break into a sobbing fit if they said the wrong thing. Once a kid asked me-not out of spite but genuine curiosity –where my mom was at a neighborhood event. A bunch of adults flipped out on the kid and scolded him until he was a sobbing mess. When he apologized to me I just told him I couldn't remember 'the incident'(that's what my dad always referred to the murder as. 'The incident' or 'it'). It made me feel bad too. My mother and brothers were all gone, but I just couldn't remember them or how it happened. I only knew because I was told by my father what happened. I spent hours sometimes trying to pull up anything from before I was six. All I managed to come up with was a dark haired teenage 'demon' with a knife. That was Dex, I always told myself. But something didn't sit right.

I've been homeschooled since I was eight years old. I didn't want to leave my Dad for school and he was too afraid of what could happen to me. He taught me the regular school subjects and other stuff he knew like chess. We were really close and he always called me whenever he was going out and couldn't take me somewhere. He worked from home and I sometimes tried to help him with his work. It made me feel like I was a big kid. He took me along to his doctor's appointments and always stopped to get me an ice cream.

Some other kids seemed to think having your dad around all the time would be a pain but I couldn't stand being away from him. I only got really mad at him once when I found he had hidden the photos of our family from me and told me we lost them in the move. I found them when I was looking for a DVD and looked through them for a while. It had been so long and I had such trouble remembering this part of my life. I remember running my finger over the photos. My hair was dark red like my mom's. I tried to will myself to remember the sound of her voice or how it felt to be snuggled up in her arms.

My dad came up and quickly closed the book, asking how I had found this stuff. I yelled at him and called him a liar before grabbing my bag and running out the door to ride off. I could hear him shouting my name in the distance and ignored it. I felt hurt that he had lied to me. Did he think I couldn't handle it? Just like the people in town who acted like I was a ticking time bomb. I rode my bike for awhile until I found a field. I got my soccer ball out of my bag and kicked it around until my anger had dissipated. As I took a moment to breathe and started thinking about why my dad would hide that from me. Was it totally for my benefit?

I recalled a day at PTSD treatment where I overheard the doctor talking with my dad about how long it would take for me to get better and she said it would be best if I could forget the event. My father nodded; looking much older and much more broken, just nodded and said he wished it was that easy. It finally occurred to me now that he wasn't just talking about me but himself. 'He had lost nearly his whole family' a voice in the back of my mind reminded me. How hard would it be to constantly be reminded of a wife and children you lost? Now that I understood why he had hid them. I recalled yelling at him and felt sick. I was a terrible person.

I was brought out of my self-pity by the sound of my father's horn honking. The worried expression in his face was another kick to the gut. I got up and brought my stuff over. "I'm sorry Dad." I said. Just looking in his face again was enough to make me want to start crying again. Dad opened the door and let me in. As he started the car he just put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry too, son. I just don't want you to be stuck in the past like I am. It's no use feeling bad over things you can't change" he said. Then he gave me a stern warning not to run off again. That evening, we watched our movie and had homemade milkshakes.

It has been a couple years since then and I had just turned thirteen in the last year. Dad and I were going on a sort of field trip to the museum. Dad had gotten a day off today and didn't work weekends. "Tim, are you ready to go?"

"Sure " I said. I picked up my backpack and headed downstairs. I had been looking forward to this a lot. History was one of the things I was good at and actually started to enjoy. I grabbed a quick breakfast that I could eat while getting my things together. I did a quick check by the mirror and noticed that my freckles were getting lighter. My dad poked in and asked if I was okay.

"Yeah" I said.

He gave a small weak sort of smile.

"You look just like her" he said. I could almost hear the pain in that statement. He looked away for a moment, blinking. He was thinking of Mom again and our family.

"I'm here Dad" I said quietly.

"Right. Sorry." He said. We went got into the car and headed off, not noticing the black Mazda parked near our neighbors. I started telling him about how I was doing in soccer. During the ride, I talked about the possibility of doing stuff with other homeschooled kids, something he had been very hesitant about. I got him to at least say maybe. It was better than an outright "not right now". I understood why he didn't want me to, because he was afraid for me.

The drive to the museum took a little while and Dad and I discussed stuff on the news the rest of the time. His current event assignments got me interested in the news and journalism. As we parked my dad told me to take notes because he expected a report on it. I didn't really mind because the only way we could get away with doing cool stuff was for him to make it educational. We saw a play once for an English assignment and he told me that he would take me to a few Shakespeare plays once I started high school.

I grabbed my notebook and we went in. It was a pretty awesome experience and we stayed for at least three hours, with me trying to get everything I could. I found history really interesting, as long as you had the right teacher. After that we went to a grocery store and a book place then ended the day with a belated lunch at Red Robin discussing some of the next field trips we could take. It was these kinds of days that stayed in my memory the longest, and were the most important to me. A reminder that after all we had been through, life could still be great. I may not be able to remember my past and the horrible thing that happened yet but I know that as long as I have these good memories, I'll be able to handle the bad ones.

The day had gone so well so far. But little did I know that great day was about to be the last normal day I had with my dad for a while, possibly forever. As we left Red Robin, Dad had to swing by the Library for some books to study. I went in and went by the young adults section of the Library to scope out books. I picked up the fourth Harry Potter book and some science fiction novels and then noticed there was a new comics section. Out of interest I browsed through looking for anything that might be interesting

I flipped through a few things and picked up one of the Pokémon comics to start with and debated on whether to get the first copy of Full Metal Alchemist. Another kid had recommended it on "Homeschool chat" but mentioned that it was really creepy sometimes. It was interesting but the whole concept of two kids resurrecting their dead mother made me a little uneasy. As I read the scene in the beginning, it brought up a brief mental image that shook me. A redheaded woman and a blonde boy dead in a pile of blood. I snapped the book shut and flung it on the shelf backing away. For a while I hadn't recalled anything about my family's death. People seemed to avoid talking about it around me. Part of me had wanted to know so I could set that part of my life aside for good.

But seeing that image made me ask myself. Was I really ready to face what had happened? The memory was still fresh in my head and almost made me want to vomit. But I had a feeling somehow that there was much more to the memory than that and the worst of it still lay below the surface.

I went to the bathroom and splashed myself with a bit of cool water. I was going to have to tell my friend that book wasn't for me. I felt bad for throwing a book like that, in retrospect, and hoped no one had seen. The youth book section did seem a bit empty luckily. After I collected myself a bit I left (stopping for a drink) and went to find Dad. When I made my way over to the checkout area I noticed him talking with someone. An oddly familiar someone.

As I looked at the stranger again memories flashed through my head: a tall dark haired boy and a slightly shorter one who always had arguments with my mother. The shorter boy-the demon boy, Dex- being charged for Mom,Gil and Skye's death. The tall boy in the hospital saying he couldn't stop Dex, the tall boy who used to babysit us always scaring us into staying in line and then a tall teenager with a cold look in his eyes holding a bundle of bloodstained laundry and holding something at me. The one who smirked at me in the courtroom as he finished his testimony. The one who scared me so much.

Aki…Akira

Dad turned around to see me as I dropped all of my books and leaned to pick them up. Akira looked quite different. The neat teenager had grown into a tall man with medium length dark hair and a small goatee. But he still seemed to have a coldness about him.

"Are you allright" Dad asked.

"Yeah" I said picking up the last of my books. Akira raised an eyebrow at me and gave a sort of smirk. He still had that English accent similar to the one Dad had.

"Timmy…you've grown" he said. "Still a bit short for your age, though. As I expected"

"It's Tim, actually" I said evenly, fighting a sudden desire to hit him. Akira just shrugged.

"Your father tells me you're going into ninth grade soon" he went on.

"Yeah" I said. I wasn't going to let his small talk distract me. "How did you find us?" I looked to dad for a moment wondering what on earth he was doing back here. I didn't like the feeling he gave me.

"I asked around" Akira said rather vaguely. Dad looked uneasy at that. He wasn't a social person and he (and I) wondered how on earth anybody might know so much about us and our schedule.

"I don't know if you remember but Akira helped you when…it happened" Dad said, gently, "He used to babysit you."

"Oh" I said. I was still uneasy and unsure of my own memories. A few recollections of the trial came back. Akira was Dex's older brother. Maybe that's why he set me off so much. He just chuckled and ruffled my hair a bit painfully.

"He's coming back for awhile" Dad said.

"What?" I asked in a quiet and very serious voice. Saved my life or not, I didn't want him living with me.

"Is there a problem with that" Akira asked, looking down at me. He sounded friendly but his eyes were ice cold. "If you can't handle it-"

"I'm fine" he said quickly. Some combination of his tone and that look in his eyes made me uneasy though every word out of his mouth was annoying the heck out of me for some reason. The 'friendly' jibes at my size and the over familiarity- It wasn't as if I was normally bothered by people joking about my size but they were people I knew. This guy was just treating me like a stupid kid.

"Good" Something in Akira's tone seemed to say 'you'd better be'. Dad might have picked up on it too because Akira lightened up a little "Now that the troublemaker is gone I'm sure we'll get along just fine. Like we always used to." Dad led me to the self check out and while I checked my books out he talked with Akira about the directions to our house. I wasn't sure, still about having him in our house. But Dad said he saved me. I convinced myself that it might just be because it would be different. Maybe I was imagining all the threatening subtext in Akira's words, because he looked so much like Dex. We left the library and got in the car.

"Are you okay?" Dad asked.

"Yeah" I nodded.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm fine. He surprised me I guess" I admitted. "I didn't think he would come back"

"Neither did I" Dad started pulling out. "I would have thought he might have a place of his own." As we left the parking lot that stayed in my mind. Akira seemed to have a good job, judging by how well kept he looked, he had a wealthy mother. Why was he so interested in staying with Dad and me? There had to be better options for a well-off twenty-something than staying with your dad and little half-brother.

"But he saved you" that nagging voice in the back of my mind reminded me. He had kept me from being killed by Dex. 'Was that really a mercy?' I thought bitterly. As soon as the thought entered my head I wanted to take it back. I wasn't going to think like that, Dad needed me. I put the issue aside for now and decided I would give Akira a second chance.


	3. In Which Old Memories Return With Him

Just as we pulled in Akira followed, parking his nice new car on the side of the road. He definitely had a nice well paying job; the car looked almost factory new. As I walked in with my bag slung over my shoulder I heard Akira make a comment to dad. I ignored it for now and wait for dad to unlock the door. We always had about four locks on our door so it took a few minutes to unlock them. My dad always insisted that unless it was an emergency if he was there, he should do it.

"Don't you think that's a tad excessive?" Akira asked with a laugh. My dad gave a sidelong glance at him and I couldn't help feeling a little happy at the annoyance in his eyes for a second or two.

"No" he said. He let us in the house and started showing Akira around. I dropped my stuff off in my and Dad's room. I needed a break, away from everything that was going on. I started reading my Harry Potter book and hoped that I would get so lost in the wizarding world that I would forget my own life for a bit. It worked well enough for a while. As I read onward trying to figure out what Voldemort was up to, Akira's sneering voice cut through.

"You sleep in the same room?" He asked, "Dad, don't you think that's a little weird? You're sleeping in the same room as your teenage son for God's sake. " I looked up from my book to shoot him a venomous glare. I knew I had promised myself I would give him a chance but he was already pushing me.

Akira met my eyes and gave me a fleeting look of warning that reminded me why I always used to fear him. It was a look that always promised pain, especially when he had that manic glint in his eyes. I disappeared behind my book.

"Akira, don't" Dad said. He changed the subject quickly, reminding us that dinner would be in a few hours.

"Mhm" I didn't dare look up again until I heard them both leave. In the time before dinner I buried myself in my book again. The Quidditch World Cup was soon; would Harry be able to go?

As it got later in the day I was interrupted by the sounds of clatters and voices. Akira was boasting about how far he had gotten in school and estimated that he was sure to get his MD in only a few years. It was really hard to give him the benefit of the doubt when he kept acting like a jerk. Every now and then little memories would flash through my mind, like fireflies. The second I acknowledged them they were gone. It was like trying to catch smoke. I finally brushed them all aside. By the time I was finally able to get back into the book Akira came in and plucked it out of my hands.

"Time for dinner," He snapped it shut.

"Couldn't you at least mark the page?" I asked.

"Why? You remember where you were don't you?" he said setting it aside.

"It's called being nice" I said. "Is that so hard to do?" Akira just shook his head with a laugh and then pushed the door shut. There was a gleam in his eye as he lifted my face up.

"Is that any way to speak to the man who saved your sorry life" he said quietly. The tone was familiar to me, it always preceded bad things happening. I didn't dare pull away but I did meet his eyes. However from the smirk on his face I doubt I looked as fearless as I would have wanted. "Mm no, it certainly isn't."

I didn't say anything to that, but inside I was both steaming mad at Akira and afraid of making him angry. He leaned closer and whispered in my ear that I would always owe him, and then he stood up as if nothing had happened. "Come on we don't want to miss dinner." His voice sounded falsely cheery but I still recalled the warning gleam in his eyes.

I followed him out to the dinner table and noticed the concerned look on my Dad's face as he put out the plates.

"Don't worry we were just chatting" Akira said airily. That was one way to put it. Dad looked at me questioningly and I shrugged. There was no need to worry him even if that whole 'you owe me' thing was kind of creepy. As Dad passed out dinner- beef and gravy on rice- I noted that he was using the good plates. Akira just looked them over, probably searching for something to make a snide remark about. He didn't even appreciate how much trouble Dad was going to for him. When we got seated Dad was prepared to say grace. Before I closed mine I saw Akira roll his eyes. When we finished, he was looking at something on his phone. Dad didn't press the issue and I just forced a smile.

"Looks great dad" I said.

"Wonderful" Akira said, putting away his phone.

"Thank you," Dad said. He started asking about school again and I had to listen to Akira brag more. I fixed my gaze on my plate and tuned him out. I didn't dare do as much as roll my eyes. Inwardly however, I imagined giving the jerk the worst telling off he ever had.

"Tim, are you okay?" My Dad asked. I broke out of my fantasy and realized that I had given a piece of beef multiple puncture wounds with my fork.

"The food's already dead, you know" Akira said with a laugh.

"I noticed." I said, stuffing a forkful into my mouth. Dad continued his conversation with my half brother asking about his job and girlfriend and all that. When the conversation fizzled, Akira turned his attention to me.

"Timmy, I've heard so much from your father about how you're doing in school, you'd think you don't do anything but study." He asked. "Do you have any afterschool hobbies? "

"I read, and I play soccer in the backyard," I said hesitantly.

"Ah your brother liked that too." I perked up at that and memory returned. Our family leaving one of Skye's games, Dex was the only one not present-he never liked going to those. "Not surprising. Do you play on a team?"

"Not really" I said, "I like playing by myself, without all the pressure of winning." It was mostly a lie, I really wanted to be on a team, but wouldn't let Akira know that. He raised his eyebrows and looked over to my dad.

"Really" he didn't sound like he believed me. Dad tried to say something, change the subject maybe, but Akira held up a hand. "Have any friends?"

"My dad is my friend" I said. He snorted and shook his head. It became apparent what he was doing; all this pretense of being interested in me was just a way to undermine him. "It's true."

"I'm sure it is, but don't think it's a little unhealthy that a boy your age only considers his father his friend," he started. He was talking to me like I was a stupid kid.

"Well I talk to other homeschooled kids. They have a chat thing," I said defiantly. Akira shook his head like I was pathetic or something, and my temper rose. "Why is it your business anyway?"

"I'm concerned. From the time I showed up you have been hostile at every turn. Then seeing the state you and your father live, I can see why. You and your father have built this small sheltered and completely unhealthy little world." I opened my mouth but I could find no words to express how I felt. Dad spoke up and my heart lifted when I heard his tone. He was furious and about to let Akira know he had overstepped his boundaries.

"That's enough" he said. Akira didn't look the slightest bit intimidated; on the contrary he looked almost amused and smirked at my dad.

"Oh I don't think so, Elliott," he said in a silky voice. Both Dad and I looked angry at how he addressed my –and his- father but he ignored it. "You see, I'm here on a request from my mother. She's been very concerned about you and your little boy for a long time. I tried to tell her that you were doing fine but she insisted and I suppose it's a good thing she did." Dad's anger went away quickly and he almost flinched, as if Akira had brandished a whip at him.

"What gives her any right-"I started, incensed at his behavior. "She's not my mother."

"She is world class psychiatrist, however and you need all the help you can get" Akira said leering into my eyes, I almost recoiled but I resolved my nerve and stared back.

"No I don't" I said. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled

"Really, who's the one who threw a monumental temper tantrum and then refused to move until his father came to pick him up?"

"I was six," I spat. Dad made a motion for me to leave the table and I left glad to be done with him. I went into my and dad's room and went back to my book. For the next half hour I read my book again. So he was here because of his mother. I didn't know much about my father's first wife except the fact he never wanted to talk about her. I tried to convince myself that she couldn't decide anything for me. 'She has no legitimate legal claim to me' I thought. If Dad knew that, why was he worried? Much later, when it got dark out, there was a knock at the door. I tensed up thinking it was Akira but Dad poked in.

"Dessert is ready if you want any." He said, "Apple crumble"

"Sure. " I marked my place in the book and set it aside. "Dad, why do you let him push you around?"

"Don't worry about him. He just doesn't agree with how I'm doing things" Dad said.

"So? It's none of his business" I said, "I don't like the way he treats you. He's a spoiled jerk."

"He's my son" Dad said quietly, "Look, I know he's not exactly friendly, but give him time." Somehow I wasn't sure that time would make things much better. But looking in dad's eyes, and hearing the way he said that made remember my promise to give him a second chance. I may not like Akira but I would try to tolerate him. I would also prove to him that I didn't need to his or his mother's 'help'. When I returned to the living room I noticed that he was now out on the porch, smoking.

I shook my head. I had learned that cigarettes carry all sorts of poisons from Dad. If Akira was the brilliant medical student he said he was, it was hard to believe he didn't know the risks. Not to mention smoking didn't seem to fit with the 'neat charming boy' image he once had-it was, if anything, Dex's sort of thing.

Dad mistook my incredulity for annoyance and warned me to leave it.

"Some doctor" I said. I scooped a nice helping of apple crumble on my plate and sat down.

"It's a family habit" he shook his head "Kagami used to smoke when I was with her, as did her brother and my sister" I looked at him curiously. He had never mentioned that he had a sister. He gave me a small smile. "We haven't spoken for years. It's hardly important."

"Oh" We both sat in silence and before I could stop myself I tentatively asked "Does she have any kids?" Moments after I said it, I almost winced expecting him to snap at me or tell me to be quiet as anyone else would with a touchy subject. But he merely frowned thoughtfully.

"I'm not certain. If she has, she never told me. I was always under the impression that she was never able to" He took a few bites of apple crumble before speaking, "I've sometimes wondered if perhaps that was a part of the reason she disliked me so much."

"That's not fair. I mean it's not like you can help that" I said. Dad shrugged.

"People's mind work in peculiar ways," he replied, "some only see what they can't have." I recalled my childhood wish of having a twin brother (before I saw that picture in the attic). I never told Dad about them because somehow it felt like a sort of treachery to him, as if he wasn't enough. I looked down at my apple crumble again, no longer hungry.

"I'm full, you can finish it"

I made my way down the hall. It was dark and I felt jumpy for some reason, and I had sudden recollection of wandering a hall in the dark when I was small. It was storming outside and I was scared. I called for someone called 'Gil' and he never answered. I hurried on to my room thoroughly shaken. I didn't want to find out what happened to 'Gil' or see his body if it was anything like my mother and brother's fate.

I gave myself a mental shake and then with a few deep breaths I picked up my book and found my place. I read late into the night until my dad came in and announced lights out. Just when I thought I had drowned out my troubles I remembered Akira's words.

"You will always owe your life to me"

I was almost four years old and sitting at the table (on a few phone books) with a teenage Akira leering back at me. On my plate was a pile of spinach. I mentally winced. I hated spinach.

"I hate this stuff. " My younger self whined. He only narrowed his eyes.

"I don't care," There was that sneer I hated so much. "You're not leaving until you finish it"

"Mommy said I didn't have to eat all of it," He lazily glanced down at his watch and raised an eyebrow.

"Only a few more minutes" I poked at the spinach hoping that I could delay him until my parents and Skye got back home. Akira slowly counted backward and I could already see the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Deep down, though I didn't know it, a part of me wanted to see what happened, if the past was really as bad as I thought. The oven buzzer sounded; a chill of anticipation went down my spine. "Out of time."

"No," I started crying as Akira got up and calmly went over to the food cupboard and came back with a tiny bottle. I knew whatever he thought up with would be horrible. He came over and grabbed me by my neck. I squirmed, cried and begged but he ignored it and dragged me to the sink. He kicked over a footstool in front of the sink and lifted me on top of it. I sniffled as he opened the bottle-hot sauce- then handed it to me.

"Drink it. If you pour any of it out, I'll find something worse" I hesitantly brought the bottle to my mouth. When my four year old self took a sip I could feel my throat burning. I felt him pinch the back of my neck. "Keep drinking" I kept pouring the nasty stuff in my mouth. I choked and stopped to take a gasp of air. My stomach was bubbling.

"Please" I gasped.

"Keep drinking" he said coldly. I took a few tiny sips and looked back but he only repeated the same thing.

"I can't" I started coughing and then threw up a little. He motioned for me to drink more; I didn't want to but his eyes left no room for argument. Soon I dropped the bottle in the sink coughing up phlegm and puke and crying. I could remember having a stomach ache almost all night. He picked up the bottle and started washing it off as I spilled the contents of my stomach into the sink. Dex came in behind me and looked puzzled.

"What's wrong with the sprog?" he asked.

"He's not feeling well," Akira said with a shrug. However Dex's eyes found the bottle.

"What did you do?" he said narrowing his eyes. The idea of Dex , the demon boy who killed my family being concerned for me just didn't add up. Dex didn't look like the monster I imagined him as ,"Did-"

"I did nothing."It sounded less like a statement, more like a command with a veiled threat. "What have you been up to Dex?" The younger teenager's eyes widened and he stepped back. I was curled up on the floor clutching my stomach and wailing. "Take him upstairs." Akira left to put the hot sauce away, and I watched in disbelief as Dex gingerly picked me up. I half expected him to drop me but he didn't. He gruffly told me to be quiet, to not say what Akira did if I knew what was good for me. That was the sort of comment Dex made all the time but I recognized now-it wasn't a threat, it was a warning.


End file.
